International Intern
by clarinetgeek4
Summary: NOTE: STORY IS BETTER THAN SUMMARY! Every two centuries or so, there is one person who can help the Nations maintain whatever sanity they have left, called the International Intern. I know, so original. And guess who it is! No, not me, it's my brother, but guess who's tagging along for the ride- ME! I try no to think about it, but things may not go exactly as planned. I hate that.
1. Chapter 1

International Intern, chapter 1

**Hi, guys! This is my first Hetalia fanfiction, so can you please give constructive criticism instead of like "OH! This sucks! You should be an accountant instead!" But I still appreciate advice. So please review with tact, thank you! DISCLAIMER! I sadly don't own Hetalia. I would be the happiest otaku fan girl in the world if I did.**

England's head was in his arms, moaning as if he was recovering from the world's worst hangover, record currently being held by Prussia or Denmark. The rest of the world was still at their lunch break, but England had come back early, being the punctual gentleman that he is. The giant table glowed with pride and polisher, and on it was a single manila envelope. No return address, no nothing except the top three results.

And God damn it, these weren't the results he wanted!

"Why? Bloody hell, why? He's never going to let me live this down. Bloody wanker," England groaned into his arms. Suddenly a glass of scotch sounded pretty nice. But Germany had banned any presence of alcohol at the meetings ever since the series of meetings the week of July 12-18, 1998. The Bad Touch Trio and the Awesome Trio were suspended from meetings for three months. Please note that Prussia is in both of these trios.

France walked in, taking no notice in the moping Englishman. He was probably drunk and it would be amusing once he woke up. Everybody filed in slowly afterwards, also taking no notice in Arthur. They just sat down and tapped their fingers agitatedly, eager for this dumb meeting to be over. Much to everyone's relief, it was just the G8, plus two brothers, Romano and Prussia, so it wouldn't be totally consumed in the clamor of arguing, bickering and meaningless chit-chat. Not that there wouldn't be arguing, but it would end a lot quicker.

"ATTENTION! The September G8 meeting of 2012, part two, is about to begin. This portion of the meeting will be primarily focused on one topic- our newest assistant. As you know, the assistant will live for approximately two centuries, their primary job is helping us in any way they can," Germany started. Romano rolled his eyes before interrupting.

"Well, no shit, you stupid potato bastard. That's the only reason any of us bothered to stay for the second part of this meeting," Romano snapped.

"Ve~ Fratello, don't say things like that! It's-a so mean," Feliciano wailed, tears quickly springing to his eyes.

"Anyway, the results are in, and VHAT! Who the hell opened it before the rest of us?!" Without raising his head to look any of the nations in the eye, England raised his left arm.

"Yo! That's so cool, Iggy just came back from the dead," America laughed happily. England's head snapped up at the mention of the word "dead".

"What?! If you thought I was dead, why didn't you try to save me, you bloody git?!" America laughed as if this reaction amused him, which made England even angrier.

"What are you laughing about? I'm very useful and deserve to be saved," England seethed. France just laughed obnoxiously or pervertedly, England couldn't tell. It sounded all the same to him.

"Honhonhonhon! Why on Earth would anyone want to save you? After all, you're obviously the…" England could easily see where this was headed.

"Don't you dare say the next few words if you want to live, frog," Arthur warned through gritted teeth, turning red from anger, or lack of oxygen, or a combination of the two.

"BLACK SHEEP OF EUROPE~BLACK SHEEP OF EUROPE! BRITAIN'S THE BLACK SHEEP OF EUROPE AND EVERYBODY KNOWS IT," France sang obnoxiously and way out of tune. Everyone in the room cringed at the horrendous sound clawing its way through France's throat. Which England was currently strangling. France's face was now turning an alarming and somewhat amusing shade of purple. Germany sighed, knowing he would never be able to reason with the two egotistical nations.

"As I was saying, the results are in, that England so kindly opened for us. Number three is Eliza Steinbech from Budapest, Hungary. Number 2 is Zackiah Jacobsen from Slovakia, and number one is wait, vhat?!" Everyone stared at the buff personification in shock at the outburst. Currently said nation seemed to be choking on air.

"What is it, West? Is the kid some unawesome criminal?" Prussia asked curiously. Numbly, Ludwig just shook his head, his perfectly gelled hair not moving, despite the speed at which he was shaking it. Russia just clucked his tongue in sympathy.

"Oh, come now, Germany. Surely the top result can't be that bad, da?" Russia asked lightly before taking the results and reading them with his own round amethyst eyes. The round eyes just got a little bit rounder.

"I take that back. Kolkolkolkolkolkol," Russia started, his purple aura of doom surrounding him like a fleece blanket on a cold winter day. Japan inched his hand towards the seemingly innocent piece of paper, trying not to get his hand burned off by the Purple Aura of Doom. He succeeded, and read the top result. His eyes widened a fraction of a centimeter

"I will admit- I did not see that coming," Japan noted, his calm demeanor never faltering. China read it over Japan's shoulder, and proceeded to fall to the ground in shock. Romano read it and face-palmed, muttering not very nice Italian words. Italy just smiled cluelessly as he read the result.

"Ve~ That's great, America! Congratulations," Feliciano chirped before going back to his pasta. America, who was playing Mario Kart on his DSi, looked up, unaware of the historic moment taking place.

"Huh?"

"Oh, for Buddha's sake, Jones! Our newest intern is American, alright, aru?!" China screamed, face nearly as purple as Britain's and France's. After all, his top feature in his country was his top notch education systems and they had all gotten beat out by some American? America's face brightened before jumping up on the conference table, and doing the moon walk.

"Oh yeah, that's right, peeps. My people aren't as stupid as you like to think! We Americans ain't dumb! We have the American spirit and ingenuity that made my land the superpower it is today! I guarantee you, this kid is probably the next Einstein! The next George Washington! Or if it's a chick, the next Amelia Earhart! That would be nice," America rambled, saying the last part slowly and softly. England butted in before Alfred started bawling about how she had gone missing. It was a sore spot for him.

"Here, you twat. Read us the information from your laptop," England huffed. America brightened before yanking the piece of paper out of the island nation's hand. He typed in the information to his laptop databases.

"Ok, so Connor McPherson is 19, junior at Yale University! He skipped a grade and took a total of 8 AP courses in high school in Colorado. 1 half of his AP courses were in Social Studies. He took AP European history, AP Human Geography, AP South American History, and AP World Geography. Connor is at Yale on 4 partial scholarships and the rest he is paying for," America read, listing Connor's qualifications.

"Is he American by birth or…?" Prussia trailed, praying that he was German in some way, shape or form. America looked at the results.

"Yep, he's an American citizen. His mom is full-blooded Native American, Cherokee, it says. His mom's original name is Galilahi, but changed it to Gail, when she got married. Connor's dad is from Scottish and Irish descent, his name is Aidan. And- oh, that's kind of suckish," America said, cringing and pushing his glasses up his nose.

"What is it? He is ineligible, da?" Russia inquired hopefully. America shook his head, ignoring Russia's tone.

"No, just…you know what, it's not relevant to his eligibility. Let's just move on," America mumbled, turning his head away from the screen and scrolling down to other information. Everyone's eyebrows knit together in incredulousness and concern. After working with the superpower for decades, they knew when something was wrong.

And that he was a very bad liar.

"Al?" Prussia asked, nudging his fellow awesome buddy. America put on a bright smile.

"Yeah, brah?"

"You do know that your lying skills are unawesome, right?" America avoided his eyes.

"I'll be flying to Connecticut tomorrow to get th-, I mean him. He'll be staying with me and Mattie until our next meeting in about two weeks, cool?" America rushed, standing up from his seat, quickly gathering his things and rushing out the door, even though there were many things they hadn't covered about their newest intern.

"Why do I get the feeling that the facts he is omitting are going to directly or indirectly affect us?" England asked flatly. Everyone nodded in agreement with the Invincible British Gentleman.

**END OF FIRST CHAPTER! I know ending is sort of cliché, but can you please click the little review button please? I'd appreciate it!**

**~Clarinetgeek4, aka Clary**


	2. Chapter 2

International Intern, chapter 2

**Hi, guys! This is the second chapter, and I hope you enjoy! I know a lot of authors have very entertaining authors' notes, but I don't. But here's my fiancé with the disclaimer.**

**America: HAHAHA! Clary doesn't own me or any of the countries. Wait, what does fiancé mean again?**

**Me: Uh, nothing! Just another word for country! Hehehe, yeah, that's it…**

"Connor?" Senora Ramirez asked as the teenager picked up his books, backpack, and iPod from underneath the desk. Connor looked up, squinting through the glare that his glasses gave off against the fluorescent light of the class room.

"Si*, Senora Ramirez?" Connor answered in flawless Spanish. Senora Ramirez waved her hand dismissively, as if Spanish was a nuisance for her to hear.

"Connor, it's the end of class. You don't have to speak Spanish, you know," the professor said with a laugh, flipping her ebony bangs out of her face. "Stupid bangs. Be honest, do I look good with them, or no? Even though they're annoying, I might as well keep them if they look good, right?" Senora Ramirez babbled, twirling her bangs. Connor laughed, a deep melodious sound to every female within a 3-mile radius.

"I swear, profesora**, you are an 18-year-old stuck in a fifty-year-old woman's body," Connor joked. She slapped him in the arm good-naturedly, crinkles forming on her tan face around her walnut-like eyes.

"Hey, I'm twenty-nine, remember?"

"Oh, silly me. How could I forget?" Senora Ramirez smiled tolerantly at the stupid "mistake", but her face turned serious in an instant.

"Anyways, back to business. I have a good friend of mine waiting outside. He has a job offer for you," she explained, smirking a bit when his face morphed from a care-free smile to a look of awe and astonishment. "He is from the government and because of your extraordinary academic accomplishments-"

"Oh, please. Everything in junior high and high school was just luck," Connor interrupted nonchalantly, but honestly.

"Oh, shut the modest mouth of yours and listen. His name is Alfred F. Jones, and he works in the government and works with improving relations with other countries. He is basically the President's right hand man," she explained further. The Spanish woman smirked victoriously when Connor's eyes widened at the mere mention of the President. "But enough chatting, hm? I think you'd like to meet him. Alfie, you can come in now, mi querido***," Senora Ramirez called near the door. A man, no more than 23, with wild honey blonde hair and impossibly blue eyes walked in, his lips pursed in an immature pout.

"Seriously, Angelica? First, I stopped being "dear" when I graduated. Second, you know I hate that name! Alfie, it makes me sound like I'm eight," the man whined, actually bouncing up and down, irritated with being treated like a kid. Senora Ramirez chuckled, and pinched his cheek in a teasing manner, like a mother would do to her son.

"Well you certainly still act like you're eight. But I know why you're here, and here he is," the Spanish professor summarized cheerfully, pushing Connor's back with the palm of her hand. "I'll just leave you two boys, oh sorry, _men_, to discuss certain matters. Let me know if you need anything, mis queridos****," Senora Ramirez chirped, before skipping, actually skipping into the office and closing the door.

"I take it that you're the famous, notorious Al that ended up doing your final lecture on how flying monkeys with the help of Mayan and Incan zombies would start World War V entirely in Spanish?" Connor asked, with an amused eyebrow raised. Alfred chuckled.

"Ha, yeah. That was actually written in a day after I got home from the bar with my brother," Alfred laughed, remembering that night all too well. "Did she mention…"

"That because it was such a gigantic event, that it would completely skip over World War III and World War IV? Yes, yes she did. And because you were, like, a genius in Spanish, she rose her standards? So for the record, my whole class kind of blames you," Connor finished before giving him a light playful glare. Alfred looked kind of confused for a minute before his face broke into a huge grin.

"I knew I liked you! As Angelica probably told you, I have a job offer for you." Alfred dug out a very crumpled piece of paper before he smoothed it out and began to read it. "Connor McPherson, you were chosen for this very important job out of the billions of people on Earth. You should feel honored, and your skills are a necessity and- ok, this script is totally lame. Damn and I thought Iggy was supposed to be a good writer. Ok, improvisation! All right basically, I work for the U.N and I am the President's personal servant when I'm not on business. My best buddy, for example, is the U.N representative for England, and he's the Queen's go-to guy."

"Wow. That's, like, a huge job. Um, is that what you want me to do?" Connor asked nervously, running a hand through his gel spiked hair. To his relief and confusion, Alfred laughed.

"Don't worry, dude. You don't have to put up with that responsibility, at least not that I know of. But even the U.N reps need a break, you know? Like, when teachers give you homework over winter or summer break in high school. That's how we feel all the time. We still do it, but we're human. We can get tired, overwhelmed, and that sometimes leads to mistakes, like forgetting to give the president some important treaty with another country, that type of thing. It can sometimes lead to trouble. BIG trouble," Alfred continued. Slowly, Connor nodded.

"I can see that. You can forget an important paper, and all of sudden, a war or political conflict breaks out, all because of that paper," Connor responded, feeling sympathy towards the U.N representatives. And he thought forgetting his lecture notes in a classroom before a test was bad! "So what does that all have to do with me?" Alfred brightened.

"Glad you asked, Con-man! You will be working as the U.N's personal assistant. You travel with us to all of our meetings, which is every two weeks or month, depending if it's the G8, or the World Conference. In between, you'll be working with any of the U.N's representatives until our next meeting, and then you switch off again. You'll take notes, and do anything you find necessary to help us. Because, let's face it, we need help," Alfred answered, actually sounding somewhat defeated on the last sentence. Instead of offering consoling words (Connor was bad at giving advice, as he found out with his sister), he decided to ask another question to distract him.

"Why me?"

"You meet all the requirements for grades and things like that. You've never had any offenses, criminal or otherwise. You never even went to the principal's office in grade school. You've done brag-worthy volunteer work, and you're an International Affairs major, perfect for this line of work. You're the best dude for this job," Alfred elaborated. Wanting and excitement and- was that regret? - were etched across Connor's face.

"Mr. Jones, as amazing as this opportunity sounds, I don't think I will be able to." Cue the awkward turtled moment, and the crickets chirping in the heavy silence. Finally Alfred cleared his throat and managed to get out a word, despite his astonishment and obvious disappointment.

"But…but why? The UN needs someone like you, dude! I know I sound like I'm only appealing to you to get you to accept, but you're exactly what we need to turn ourselves around!" Connor just looked at him in confusion. Alfred sighed wearily. "Truth is bro, that the U.N is known for its unproductive meetings because we fight so often, and that we never have any work done beforehand. I'm not lying when I say that we need you," Alfred admitted, his cheeks red with shame.

"I'm really sorry, Mr. Jones, but I can't. I would love to help and take this job, but I have prior obligations. I have to finish school, I have to get a car, and I have a sister to take care of. Plus what if I mess up, and get fired? What will I do for Katy then?" Connor argued. Alfred cringed. That right there is what he was avoiding at the meeting. Connor had a sister with no parents or any relatives that could take care of her. Meaning, that she either (a. had to go with him to meetings and stuff or (b. live with a foster family for the rest of her life.

Or Connor was so protective of her, he'd refuse, and they'd have to resort to those non-American assistants. Alfred would hate to break up his own people's families, but at the same time he really wanted Connor as an assistant. Or, having a kid at meetings couldn't be that bad, could it? The girl was 15, old enough to handle herself with dignity and not be too bothersome. Oh well, it wasn't the first time Iggy had gotten mad at him, and usually it was for something genuinely stupid. This actually had some reasoning and evident thought behind it.

"Your sister can come. I can arrange home-schooling for her on a computer, if you want. Plus, imagine what it would be like for her. Imagine her face as she travels to all the different countries of the world. It is a cultural experience of a life-time, and it would provide a beneficial learning experience," Alfred coerced, sounding desperate and hopeful at the same time. At the word "beneficial" something in Connor changed. A hesitant look was in his eyes and something resembling hope gleamed in the sea blue irises.

"Ok, I will do it, on one condition. My sister has to agree. I'm not going to uproot her from her friends at school if she's not ok with it."

"Good enough, bro! Oh my gosh, this is gonna be epic! Is it ok if my brother talks to her? He's the UN rep for Canadia, and can explain this a hell of a lot better than I can! Just give me the school's address, and I can give you more information. Plus Mattie is better with people than I am. We live in an house together in New York, near the Connecticut New York border. You'll be staying there when your sister says yes," he babbled, gripping Connor's forearm excitably. He cringed at Alfred's strong grip on his forearm.

"Don't you mean Canada?"

"Hm?"

"You said the rep for Canadia is your brother. There's no country called Canadia."

"Yeah, I know, it's a force of habit. I used to call his country that to get on his nerves. It was funny as hell until he beat my ass with a hockey stick and said never to do it again. I still sip though because I did it so often." Connor processed this for a moment. He wasn't sure if he wanted someone like that around Katy.

"Ah."

"Yeah! I'll text my bro to let him know that he's doing that for me. Just you wait, Con-man! You're not going to regret this!" Connor could only nod nervously as Alfred pulled on his arm out of the classroom, babbling about things from aliens to McDonalds to how amusing it was to see stuff explode sometimes.

"Just let Katy be ok with this. Please," Connor mentally begged.

**AND SCENE! Katy and Canada will be the next chapter, her reaction and all that plus some more! Thanks for all who have read this so far, you guys are so Prussia! **

**Translations!**

**Si- means yes. I assume you all knew that, but whatever!**

**Profesora- a female teacher, whether it's professor or otherwise**

**Mi querido- my dear**

**Mis queridos- my dears**


	3. Chapter 3

International Intern, chapter 3

**Hi, guys! This is third chapter, and I hope you enjoy! I know a lot of authors have very entertaining authors' notes, but I don't. But here's my future bro in law with the disclaimer.**

**Canada: Ms. Clary doesn't own me or any of the countries. She also doesn't own anything else you recognize in this story. Wait, brother-in-law? **

**Me: EEP! Uh, no, of course I didn't mean that! ON WITH THE STORY!**

The meek nation of Canada stood on the outside of the football field looking in on the marching band rehearsal. The drum majors were currently screaming at the marchers and the visual ensemble for messing something up. One was a short brunette girl with eyebrows that could England's to shame. Despite her vicious attitude, he felt major sympathy for her. The other was a guy about six feet tall, with sandy blonde hair, and slightly reminded him of Al and his favorite superhero Captain America. Except he had never seen Alfred get that angry at something as trivial as an activity before. The band director was just sitting back like a lazy dumb-ass and let the drum majors do all of the dirty work.

"SERIOUSLY! WE ARE THE PRIDE OF ROSWIND HIGH SCHOOL! DO YOU THINK OTHER BANDS MESS UP ON THEIR FUCKING TRAVERSES AS OFTEN AS WE DO?!" the girl screamed. Canada shuddered as he could see the spit literally flying from her mouth.

"Don't be worried. This is normal," a skinny blonde woman said, walking up to stand next to Matthew. He jumped at the woman's quiet approach, but stared at her in shock.

"It's normal for the student conductors to-"

"God damn it, what is this, middle school? We don't need your fucking excuses," the male drum major.

"Cuss at the students whose parents pay for this bull-shit? Yes," the blonde all but snarled.

"If it bothers you and your kid so much, why don't you just quit?" The blonde woman started to laugh, and soon enough as on the ground laughing. "What? Did I say something?" he wondered out loud. She finally managed to get a hold of herself. Canada offered a hand to the woman, who offered him an apologetic grin and grasped onto his hand and was promptly lifted up.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not a mother. I'm a sibling, the older one in fact. My mom actually approves of this, even though Jane comes home crying some days because of the drum majors," she spat before glancing guiltily at Mattie.

"I'm sorry, it wasn't at you. I just think the marching band is stupid. I was a theatre kid, so I never really got into music. My sister is the one on the edge of the circle, doing one of her nervous jigs," the woman said, giggling slightly as Mattie vaguely saw a somewhat scrawny brunette twiddling her feet in circles. "I'm Kalissa by the way. Kalissa Jay Rimes."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Matthew Williams."

"Matthew. Huh, I dated a Matthew once. He was a jerk."

"Um…" What exactly were you supposed to say to that?"

"OH AND I SUPPOSE THAT YOU DO TRAVERSES BETTER THAN THE REST OF US?!" Many more angry voices added to the conversations.

"Thank God, Katy's running her mouth. Usually that breaks up the critical circles," Kalissa breathed in obvious relief. Matthew craned his neck just to see who he was supposed to be meeting. His heart suddenly took a dive into his stomach. Why did she have to be so loud and violent? Something told Mattie that the Nations wouldn't be very happy with him for helping out America.

_**L~I~N~E~B~R~E~A~K~Y~A~Y~S~~~**_

Katy's POV

I zoned out as Jasmine and Grayson started running their mouths about traverses or marching style or whatever the marching band and visual ensemble was getting chewed out for. This was normal, and we should be used to this by now, but it didn't make it any less of a nuisance. Unfortunately there were still some people who still weren't used to it, like Jane. She was just wiggling her feet, just like she always does when she's an intimidated. I put a hand on her shoulder, trying to be reassuring. I wasn't the best at it, but it was worth a shot.

"Hey, chill out. It's not any fault of ours that they're PMS-ing for the fifth time this month. Do you think Grayson uses pads or tampons?" I whispered. I smirked when she choked on air and tried to cover it with a cough.

"Rimes! McPherson! What is so humorous about traverses?" Grayson yelled, striding up to us in a true douchebag fashion. Jane turned bright red at being caught by the Grand Douche of Roswind High School (Jasmine was the Grand Douchette of Roswind High school. Yes, they are a couple). To everyone in the regular band program he was basically the equivalent of Greek Muse of music, or whatever.

Even when he seemed ok at times, it was only to protect whatever reputation he had. I'm not exactly sure what reputation that is, but I couldn't even attempt to try and give a shit.

"Oh, nothing, Master Grayson. We were just discussing whether you use tampons or pads during your menstrual cycle. I'm sure it would clear up a lot of confusion," I answered in a very bad imitation of a British accent. Muffled giggles and guffaws of disbelief and awe could be heard throughout my beloved audience. They should be used to this by now, but what can you do? People love drama, even when it's so familiar to them.

"VE 4! This has nothing to do with the subject at hand! All of us would appreciate it if you stayed appropriate and stayed on the subject at hand!"

"Ok, what were you saying about traverses? Oh, yeah, how we basically suck?"

"NO! If you fucking listened-"

"I WAS fucking listening!"

"No you weren't! You were messing around, making jokes and getting a laugh! You are one of the main reasons, VE 4, why we can never get anything done," Jasmine screamed, actually spitting on my cheek. I wiped it away irritably with my middle finger.

"Two things! One! My name is not VE 4! It's Katy Sophia McPherson! Two! If it weren't for your impatience, your perfectionism, and just shitty attitude, we would be getting stuff done and not having this conversation. See? I'd make a better drum major than you two," I snapped. I knew what was coming next, but at least the others wouldn't be getting yelled at. Jasmine laughed, eerily resembling a witch's cackle and Grayson just joined in, sounding like the typical cocky arrogant male.

"You? That's a laugh! I mean, who would fucking follow a freshman who isn't even taller than the kiddie section of the pool? Your traverses are about as good as your singing!" I blushed at the memory at James, the band clown, recording me singing on his new video camera at a competition. For once, I didn't have a comeback to the seniors ganging up on me. "So if you're finished, VE 4, can we continue?" Jasmine laughed, face turning red from lack of oxygen. I blushed harder.

"OH AND I SUPPOSE THAT YOU DO TRAVERSES BETTER THAN THE REST OF US?!"

"What makes you think that? Of course we are! We're drum majors, so it's just natural that we're better than the rest of you," Jasmine cooed. I took in a deep breath and started counting as calmly as I could manage. _1, 2, 3, 4, 5…_

"So why don't you just drop it, and-" I cut her off with a steely glare.

"How about I just drop you instead?" SMACK! Jasmine staggered back, tears pricking her oh so innocent baby blue eyes. A red hand print was painted across her cheek.

"KATY! GET OFF THE FIELD! WE'LL TALK ABOUT YOUR PUNISHMENT LATER," Ms. Claude yelled, a bit of her original French accent coming into her threat. I rolled my eyes and gave Jasmine and Grayson a lazy two fingered salute before, walking off the field. I didn't care if I got expelled or not; at this point, I just wanted to get away from arrogant assholes, which is a lot harder than you think.

**THIRTY MINUTES LATER IN PRINICIPAL'S OFFICE**

"I swear, Mr. Carlson! I've tried showing her compassion, patience, but if anything that's made her worse! I want this brat gone! Suspended at the very least! Expulsion is preferred," Ms. Claude roared in blind anger, slamming her hand on the desk. I rolled my eyes at her dramatic tendencies. I couldn't see her because I wasn't actually in there. I was eavesdropping from outside the door in the all too familiar chair. I heard Oliver take a deep calming breath.

"Janine, Katy's report says that she and I quote, 'was simply advocating for the greater good of the marching band that is currently under the guidance and hand of the vicious dictators who I'm ashamed to call drum majors'. Also in the report, she says that Jasmine Quierra and Grayson McCallister were basically cussing them out. Katy is brash, hot-headed, and reckless, but she isn't a liar. It was simply a defense mechanism," Mr. Carlson explained. I smiled sadly, knowing all of those were true. You are who you are, why should anyone try to change that?

"Preposterous!" I snickered, who says the word preposterous anymore? "Grayson and Jasmine are not only some of my best students, but they have done so much to help this school and the student body! They were simply explaining to them how to do traverses and Katy just suddenly started yelling! That girl needs serious help," she yelled. I cringed at the word "help". I don't need help; I just refuse to be abused by idiots. There's a difference. Ms. Claude slammed the door open, gave me a quick glare and somehow a smile, and stomped her way down to the band room before slamming her office door. I entered, giving a grin to Oliver Carlson.

"Sup, Ollie?" I said happily, as if I weren't going to get into some kind of trouble. His grim face didn't change.

"You must learn to get that temper under control, McPherson," he warned. "I may have saved your little butt before…"

"At least it's a cute little butt," I chirped, stealing a mint from the bowl on his desk. I got him to smile a little, at least. He sadly handed me a slip of paper. I looked at it, before glaring up at him.

"EXPELLED? WHAT DO YOU MEAN EXPELLED?!" I looked at Mr. Carlson to see if he was joking, even though there wasn't a joking bone in this man's body. His face remained stoic. "Mr. Carlson! Everything I wrote on that report was the truth! How can I get expelled for standing up for myself and others? This is unconstitutional! It's even in the Declaration of Independence! Whoever can take action against a hostile form of government is required to take action! This school is not American! I can't be expelled," I raged, tears (fuck) running down my cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Katy. I really am. District policy is that after the third infraction, the student must be expelled. Katy, if it weren't for Ms. Claude pointing that out, you would have just gotten a detention as usual. If there was anything I could do, I'd do it in a heartbeat," he promised solemnly, taking my hand in his. I pulled away.

"Fine, I get it. I'll be by to get my stuff sometime tomorrow," I said stuffily, wiping my face with the back of my arm.

"Katy-"

"With all due respect, sir, I'm expelled as of now. There's nothing more you can say," I grumbled, standing up and stalking out the door.

"Katy-" I slammed the door.

**END OF CHAPTER! Please R&R, I'd appreciate it! Also thanks to those of you that have reviewed, favorite, followed, or even just skimmed it! I like knowing this story is not completely awful. Next chapter will have more Katy/country interaction. No romance (just yet, anyway). Thanks so much! Also, to those in marching band, this was not meant to offend anyone! I'm in marching band, so I know that it's actually pretty cool!**


	4. Chapter 4

International Intern, chapter 4

**Hi, guys! This is fourth chapter, and I hope you enjoy! I know a lot of authors have very entertaining authors' notes, but I don't. But here's my future maid of honor with the disclaimer!**

**Poland: Clary doesn't, like, own Hetalia in way, shape or form! She also doesn't own anything else you recognize! But she will, like, totes be the momma of America's kids!**

**Me: *nods happily* I'm going to name one Virginia, and the other is going to be Alfred Junior! Anyways, enjoy the story! Also, note that from now on, the rest of the story will be told in Katy's point of view, unless there is a specific POV change, in which it will be clearly labeled. Thank you!**

**L~I~N~E~B~R~E~A~K~Y~A~Y~~~~~**

"Katy," Jane called, running up to me, and hugging me. "Oh my gosh, PLEASE tell me that the detention isn't this weekend. We're still going to be able to see that epic Tom Cruise movie, right? Because if not, then we, like, wouldn't be able to have the triple sleepover where we gawk at Captain America's ass during the Avengers because your brother will have grounded you! And then you have to sneak out and get in even MORE trouble and-" I cut her off by shoving the expulsion note in her face. Jane gave me an almost hurt look (to which I cringed in response) and took the paper cautiously. She read it at least twenty times before looking at me with teary green eyes.

"I don't know who this is worse for, you or me," Jane whimpered sadly, trying her best not to break down crying like I had just been doing only 15 minutes ago. "Oh come here, Kit-Kat," she mumbled, before yanking me into a hug, which I gratefully returned. "How are you going to explain this to Connor? Because you've been lying to him about how much you love it here-"

"I haven't been lying," I interrupted hotly. "I've just been bending the truth. You know how hard Connor works to make sure I'm getting a quality living experience, even though I'm not in Colorado. I don't want him to think that he isn't doing enough. You know how guilty that boy gets," I snorted, through the spare tears trickling down my cheeks. She gave me her famous "Jane" look. What qualifies her for her own look? It's a mixture of the famous "WTF" face, the reprimanding parent face, the puppy dog pout, and the glare. Now how the fuck do you describe that?! Before she could give me any advice, her sister texted her. Jane scowled.

"Damn it, Kalissa. You gotta get better timing," Jane muttered, blowing her chestnut bangs out of her eyes irritably. Her tear stains were still pretty noticeable. I took a pack of baby wipes out of my messenger bag and handed them to her.

"So Kalissa doesn't ask why you were crying. She knows Connor's number," I reminded her. She nodded in understanding and began wiping her face furiously.

"Damn it, Katy, why does this whole school seem to hate you?" she hissed, hugging me once more. I shrugged and attempted to give her my famous lazy grin.

"Why are you asking me? I've been asking myself this for three quarters now," I sniffled, my grin wavering slightly. She gave me a pitying look, seeing the grin decrease in size.

"I know, Kitty Kat. I'll text you, ok? Kalissa is probably late for some bull shit date," she grumbled, referring to the many mistakes Kalissa has made regarding her dating habits. I forced out a chuckle and bit my lip as she walked away. After I was sure I heard the roar of Kalissa's BMW fade into the distance, I kicked a locker. Damn school deserved all the abuse it could get. I stormed out the door. Outside, I took one long look at my flag, glaring at bright happy colors. It had a rainbow on it. A fucking RAINBOW. How ironic is that?

"Why is this city full of such moronic dick nuggets?" I seethed mentally. I took out my notebook and started scribbling.

"TOP TEN FAULTS OF THE HUMAN POPULATION," the title read. I scribbled down a 10, and a reason.

"10. We thirst for power. We want control over everything, and when we don't get it, we act like a PMS-y girl, hormones raging like the summer's Colorado wildfires," I wrote. I smiled wickedly as I remembered my bash at Grayson earlier that day. I may have gotten expelled, but that didn't mean I regretted my decision. Far from it, actually.

"U-u-um excuse me, but are you Katy Sophia McPherson?" a timid man's voice asked, snapping me out of my one of many lists. I didn't look up.

"Depends on who's asking," I mumbled, going back to my list. The man seemed to stumble over his words before getting back on track.

"Are you Connor Blaine McPherson's sister?" he tried again, this time getting my attention. My head snapped up from my list to glare up at him. How dare he interrupt my moping!

"Yes, daughter of Gail Red-wing McPherson and Aidan Sean McPherson. Proud daughter of the Cherokee tribe. Are there any more intruding questions on my family relations, or are you just going to kidnap me now and demand ransom? Because let me tell you right now that that's not going to work to your advantage" I snapped, pointing the rainbow flag at the center of his chest, to let him know I was properly armed. The man shrank back at my defensive tone.

"You're right, I should have been more sensitive about making sure you were the right person. My name's Matthew Williams, and I am a hopefully a future coworker of your brother's," the man apologized. That managed to get my attention. A person actually apologizing? It's a goddamned miracle! The man's long golden hair made me almost certain that he was homosexual, but that was before I caught a glimpse of his outfit. Most gay men were flashy and flamboyant and stood out amongst a crowd. Instead it was a pair of slacks, and a white t-shirt with a maple leaf and a comfortable pair of boots. Yep, this man was most definitely an introvert and not gay.

"You're damn right I'm right. Now what is this about? My brother should be here any minute, so you don't have very long," I demanded impatiently, standing up with rainbow flag still in hand.

"Your brother isn't coming. He-" I interrupted, trillions of thoughts going through my mind at a million miles an hour. How would this man know about the whereabouts of my brother? I clenched my teeth and thrust my flag point up to the center of his throat. The man yelped and put his hands up

"What did you do to him, you bastard?! I swear if he's hurt in any way, you're going to have this flag shoved so far up your ass, you won't be able to walk for a month! "

"N-n-no! That's not what I meant at all! I didn't mean to imply-"

"Of course you didn't! No good criminal, let alone a kidnapper or serial killer means to imply anything! How did you know that my brother wouldn't be able to come and get me? You'd only know that if you were involved with him in some way, and I know you're not a co-worker or a friend or a professor! So what does that make you, huh?! A stalker? A kidnapper? A rapist? A SHEILD agent?! A serial killer?" I seethed, pushing the flag pole a little deeper into his throat. The bastard backed up away from, ducked, and got behind me.

"Please, Ms. McPherson, you're taking a simple question too far! And I know him because I'm part of the government-"

"HA! So you ARE a SHEILD agent!"

"I don't even know what that is! If you'd let me finish, I could fully explain the situation, eh," the man finally said in a normal volume of voice, a bit of Canadian accent coming out in his voice. His face was red, with either anger or exasperation, I couldn't tell.

"Then please, by all means, explain," I drawled out sarcastically. The man glared at me, actually getting vaguely irritated.

"Thank you. As I said before, I'm sort of part of the government. I'm the UN representative for Canada. Your brother is a top candidate for a job, a job-"

"That is of utmost important to the government, I get it. Why? I don't think Connor could kill a man even if he wanted to," I finished for the man. He looked hopelessly lost and confused. I guess the government makes sure their workers are extremely gifted actors.

"You do realize I'm talking about the UN, right? We deal with diplomacy-"

"Exactly. I've read that diplomacy can get pretty messy. Therefore you need henchmen of sorts to deal with unwilling allies that aren't cooperating. You always take the weak-willed and turn them into cold-blooded mindless killers. You've done the same to Connor. You knew that I'd find out eventually and tell someone. So you were sent to kill me. Well, let me tell you something, I'm not easy to kill," I growled, taking a swipe near his cheek. He ducked and looked at me with nothing but exasperation. No fear, not even anger.

"What is it with you Americans and your dumb conspiracies about world governments?"

"HEY! They're not dumb! They have basis in fact!" The man face-palmed and pinched the bridge of his nose through his glasses.

"Look, kid, I'm not going to lie, you are very annoying-"

"Thank you!"

"But your conspiracies are not true. I really am from the UN-" I grit my teeth, and swung at him again. One of my biggest pet peeves is lying and this man has been pushing my buttons ever since he started aggravating that pet peeve. He blocked the swing with a hockey stick that seemed to come out of nowhere.

"MATTIE!"

"KATY!" Both of us were tackled and fell to the side. "Katy Sophia McPherson, do I even want to know why that scene was happening in front of me?" Connor asked, pale green eyes staring into my soul. I shuddered, he had always had Mom's little knack of making people uncomfortable with their stares. The only difference was that Mom had brown eyes, not green. The green eyes were from Dad.

"Connor! I thought you were being tortured," I squealed before hugging him tightly. I just now realized I might have gone a little too far with my paranoia. It was better just to act out the paranoia to get in less trouble. I really gotta stop getting into these situations.

"What? Tortured? What the hell gave you that idea?"

"This man said that you wouldn't be able to pick me up! How would he know if you were able to pick me up or not? You gotta admit that does sound pretty stalkerish," I pouted, even bringing out the lower lip. He cringed, but hugged me just the same.

"Katy?"

"Hm?"

"How late did you stay up watching _'What They Aren't Telling Us'_ with Jane?" I froze and I heard Connor just chuckling dryly, knowing he had me caught. "And don't even try to tell me otherwise, Katy Sophia. I know what happened. Mr. Williams told you he was from the government, and that he was part of the UN, and that he wanted to hire me right? You thought he wanted to turn me into an assassin that killed diplomats that didn't want to cooperate. Since you were related to me, I had to cut off all contact with you. If I didn't, someone would be sent to kill you, correct?" I blinked, wondering how the hell he could have known all that. "I used to watch that show, Katy. It was a re-run from season 2." Brat.

"3:00 AM isn't late," I mumbled, pulling away from the hug with red cheeks. He did a double-take, before starting to lecture me.

"KATY! You and Jane get up at 6:00 and 6:45. How many times do I have to tell you that getting anything less than seven hours of sleep isn't healthy!? It can lead to more massive cases of insomnia, can kill brain cells that help your brain function making it hard to learn, makes you more vulnerable to dangerous cardiac conditions, can kill your dog, blah, blah, blah," Connor continued to drone. I decided to tune into the UN reps' conversation because it seemed more interesting.

"Matt! What the hell was that bro? Getting your ass handed to you by a fifteen-year-old? And then nearly hitting her with a hockey stick? What did she do? She might be kind of out there, but she's still one of my citizens!"

"What did she-WERE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO A WORD I WAS SAYING?! She kept trying to kill me with a flag pole!"

"So just take that flag pole away from her! Use your weird-ass hockey strength to take it! God, and you call me dense," his clone snorted. My eyes widened at how similar they looked. Before I could stop myself I interrupted their conversation, and Connor.

"Oh my God, I want a clone! How fucking awesome would that be?" I hollered. The twins looked over, the one with shorter hair looking amused and the one I nearly beat up looking irritated and probably thinking, "Is this chick for real?".

"You idiot! They're twins," Connor snapped, his eyes flashing irritably behind his glasses. He also proceeded to slap the back of my head for the profanity. I rolled my eyes, rubbing the now sore spot on my head.

"I know, idiota. But they look remarkably similar, even for twins, and I was thinking how cool it would be to have a twin," I explained exasperatedly. I swear, people just didn't give me enough credit.

"I can barely handle one of you," Connor groaned. The man who looked actually amused when I spoke out came up to me and held out his hand.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA, sup dudette! I'm Alfred F. Jones, hero, and UN rep for the United States of America! We have a proposition for you, and your brother." He motioned to the sleek cherry red Mustang behind him. I really hoped I wasn't drooling.

"You're really loud. And who made you a hero?" The man, no, Alfred, chuckled again.

"Myself, just because I'm that epic. Now hows 'bout we go to Mickey D's, grab some grub, and we'll explain everything?" Annoyed with his boisterous attitude, I just nodded coolly and got into the back seat. Everyone got in, the marvelous invention roared to life, and we were on our way.

**AND SCENE! OK, any references anyone notices? Ok, a LOT of references? Next chapter will be living with the North American Bros, cussing from Tony, and most likely another country appearance. Also please note that "What they aren't telling us" isn't a real show, at least not to my knowledge. Please R&R, I appreciate all reviews!**


	5. Chapter 5

International Intern, chapter 5

**Hi, guys! This is fifth chapter, and I hope you enjoy! I know a lot of authors have very entertaining authors' notes, but I don't. But here's my OTHER future bro-in-law with the disclaimer!**

**England- For the last time, you wanker, America IS NOT YOUR FIANCE! We will never be indirectly related!**

**Me: *Pouts* Just do the disclaimer, you git.**

**England: Clarinetgeek4 doesn't own Hetalia or any of its characters. Now will you stop harassing me?**

**L~I~N~E~B~R~E~A~K~Y~A~Y~~~~~**

The next week was a blur. Mr. Williams and Mr. Jones explained to me what this whole "International Intern" was about.

"International Intern? Really? That is the best thing you UN dudes could think of?" I had asked skeptically. The twins just shrugged and said the decision was made before they were even born, and didn't really see the point in changing. Because I was still sore about my argument with Mr. Williams, I had muttered something along the lines of "Lazy asses" under my breath. Today, a Thursday, had been a week since I had gotten expelled from school, and I had managed to narrowly escape from Connor finding out.

"Well, since you'll be home schooled from now on, I had better call the school, don't you think?" Connor asked, taking out his cell phone and almost beginning to dial.

"Oh, don't worry about that! I'll call them for you! You still have to set up summaries for Mr. Williams and Mr. Jones' joint economy program plans, don't you? You're SO busy, and you shouldn't have to worry about trivial matters such as calling my school," I babbled, praying he would buy it.

"What did you do? Send a bomb threat?" Connor joked, ruffling my hair. I pushed his hand away irritably. NO ONE ever touches my hair without permission from me and only me.

"No! Wow, I try to do a favor for once, and you turn me down. I see how it is," I snorted, praying my acting was good enough. He looked at me suspiciously, his green eyes seeming to darken.

"Whenever you say 'for once' and 'I see how it is', you're up to something. I'm not even kidding now, what did you do?" Connor asked, tone turning from fun and somewhat nice to "I'm going to kill you for whatever stupid thing you did this time".

"Hey, Con-Man! The reports aren't showing up on Google docs, are you sure you saved them?" I silently thanked whatever deity or God or whatever mysterious force controlled the Universe for my luck. Connor walked briskly to the stairs in what I call his business strut. I was about to retreat back up to my room when a knock on the door was heard.

"Alfred? Matthew? I'm here with those reports you needed. The next meeting?" a voice asked in a clipped, proper British accent. I didn't know whether or not to open the door, so I just chose not to. I didn't know the guy, and he might find it weird for Mr. Williams and Mr. Jones to have a teenage girl open their door. Suddenly, it hit me. I raced to my room, and put on the dress I found about three days ago.

***FLASHBACK***

_I was exploring the house, with no one around. I could already tell that I was bound to get in some sort of predicament, good or bad. Why? Because I'm me, and there's no other explanation. The house a mix between a mansion and a common house, so pretty big. I totted around, humming some SpongeBob._

_"It's the best day EVER~" I sang happily as I skipped around trying to find Mr. Jones' horror movie stash. I happily admit to being a horror movie addict, and Mr. Williams had made the mistake of telling me about his brother's Horror Movie Stash. Feeling diplomatic, I actually asked if I could watch one. He looked at me incredulously._

_"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Only the hero can handle those kinds of movies! I don't need a munchkin climbing into my bed at night because you got scared of a little monster," he had taunted, twirling what little hair I had. I had snarled, called him a douche nugget, and stalked off. Now I was determined to prove him wrong._

_Instead, I had found what they called his Hollywood Stash. Apparently he had major connections to almost every director in the history of Hollywood and got whatever props he could get his hands on, like the Star Wars light sabers, the Blazing Saddles pistols, the Indiana Jones hat and whip, and things of that nature._

_Including a skimpy French maid costume from whatever movie. Curious and bored as hell, I tried it on. It was a little longer since I was so vertically impaired (NOT SHORT, DAMN IT), but still was shot enough where it could be considered skimpy._

_"In this thing I wouldn't mind cleaning," I chuckled, twirling around in my new dress. It may have been skimpy and slutty, but it made me look taller, and like my legs weren't tree trunks. It gave my appearance a much appreciated "oomph". I wouldn't be caught dead in this thing in public, but alone, I could wear it as much as I wanted._

_"UGH! God, did you have to buy MORE Star Wars figurines? You have a million already in your Hollywood Stash," the unseen voice of Mr. Williams complained. I looked to the shelf on the left side. R2D2, Princess Leia, Anakin, and Luke glared down at me. I curled up into a ball and hoped they skipped putting them in here until I was out of here, and more importantly out of the dress._

_The door creaked and I squeezed my eyes closed tighter. I heard a thud, and saw Connor lying on the ground. He had passed out at the sight of his baby sister in a SO not baby maid costume. Needless to say, Mr. Jones and Mr. Williams forbid me from exploring their house without them. Especially after I questioned Mr. Jones why he had saved a French maid costume in the first place and he turned an amusing shade of red._

*END OF FLASHBACK*

I came back, wearing the maid dress. I adjusted the little hat/tiara thing that came with it, took a deep breath, and opened the door, trying my best to keep a straight face.

"Hello, sir, my apologies. The masters and I were in the bedroom, fixing the bed. It sure has been creaking very easily lately," I said with a fake contemplative frown. The British man's face was a bright red hue, his ginormous eyebrows trying to escape.

"U-u-u-um quite alright, quite alright. I'm Arthur Kirkland, an associate of your, erm, masters. I didn't know that girls your age were allowed to be maids, let alone, erm, prostitutes," Mr. Kirkland said, lowering his voice conspiratorially on the last word. I rose my eyebrows, like I was offended.

"What on Earth gave you that idea?! Are you trying to imply something Mr. Kirkland? The bed is so old that it creaks whenever it's sat upon," I exclaimed, bringing a hand to my chest. The man turned even redder.

"I-I-I am so sorry, miss, I assumed when I shouldn't have. May I come in?" With fake hesitance, I let him in. "Also, how old are you, miss?" I decided to pull this trick a little bit longer.

"I'm 23, sir. I know I don't look it, but it's not being fun being from a short family," I answered "shyly".

"YO! Katy, who you talking to, gal? Who- OH! Hey, Iggy," Mr. Jones yelled, giving the man a hug from out of nowhere.

"ACK! What are you doing, you bloody wanker? There is no need to suffocate me every time you see me," Mr. Kirkland snapped. Mr. Jones pouted, and did a sort of double take when he saw me wearing the maid's costume. I gave him the pleading gesture, and mouthed, "Play along." Mr. Jones didn't smile, but his eyes shone bright with excitement at pranking this guy. I glanced at him gratefully. "Hey, Katy! Mind getting me a Coke and some tea for the old man?"

"WHAT! I'm not old, you git!" Nevertheless, I turned on my heel and flounced to the kitchen. Matthew came down, holding a bunch of papers, murmuring about how next time they were using his Google account instead of Alfred's. He stopped, looked me up and down and face palmed.

"Maple! I knew Alfred shouldn't have let you keep that dress. Do you want Connor to pass out again?" I snickered, actually thinking that it would be epic if I could make Connor pass out twice.

"Look, I know that we haven't seen eye to eye these last few weeks. Some guy named Arthur showed up, and I'm pretending to be your maid, and he mistook me for a prostitute. It's funny as hell to get that guy flustered, and Alfred's already in on it. Please go with it," I begged, clamping my hands together tightly. Finally, something I had been waiting for all week happened. Mr. Williams actually smiled.

"Eh, why not?" He turned on his heel to go. I tugged on his shirt sleeve.

"Um, do you by chance know how to make tea?" He looked at me as if I had grown three heads that sang opera. "What? I'm sure that it's a very hard skill to learn," I protested, seeing his look of dubious astonishment.

"You really are hopeless. Getting expelled for doing what's right, I can understand but," I stood on my tip toes and covered his mouth.

"How the hell do you know that?! Please, please, please don't tell Connor! I'm actually begging now, please, please, please?" I pleaded, my heart thudding in my chest. Matthew just shrugged noncommittally.

"Not my secret to tell." He handed me the cup of tea, and I walked out.

"So Artie! Why do you wanna meet Connor so bad? You're gonna meet him eventually," Alfred said, obviously trying to avoid the Mr. Kirkland meeting my brother. I regarded him suspiciously. Was my brother that bad at his job? I was busy analyzing his face, trying to get a read on him, but ended up tripping over air. The tea and coke pitched forward and flew right at Mr. Kirkland. A big stain was spreading across his chest and he wiped off his face in disgust. My hands shot to my mouth, eyes wide. Alfred and Matthew's hysterical laughing did nothing to help the situation.

"Mr. Kirkland, I'm SO sorry. I didn't see where I was going, and I just…" I'm so fucked.

"What's going on?" Ok, doubled fucked! "KATY!? Damn it, kid, what did I tell you about that outfit!? I KNEW Mr. Jones shouldn't have let you keep it! And why are there drinks all over the floor?" His eyes wandered over to Mr. Kirkland, who was still soaked, cursing under his breath, all while yelling at Mr. Williams and Mr. Jones to shut up. He looked back to my outfit. He made the connection. "Oh, you did NOT!" I tried to run, but his hand caught my ear.

"Ow, ow, ow, ear, ear, ear," I whimpered as his grip only tightened. He dragged me over to Mr. Kirkland.

"Sir, I believe she has something to say to you," Connor stated stuffily. I knew that I was in for hell after this. Mr. Kirkland managed a tight smile.

"That's all right, Mr. McPherson, she's already apologized. It can always be cleaned," he tried to reassure. Connor nodded, his face still stoic and professional.

"Oh no, that's not why my sister is apologizing to you now, sir. Katy," Connor reprimanded, giving me a hard shove with his hand. I glared at him.

"Yeah, sorry about that dude. For the drinks the face. That couldn't have felt good. Um, I also kinda lied…I'm not really a maid. I got bored, and figured, 'you know what? I got nothing to lose, so YOLO!' Also I meant to make myself sound like a prostitute, it was fun seeing you get all red and blushy and stuff. Oh and sorry for…" Mr. Kirkland put up a hand to stop my babbling. He looked so pissed I thought he was going to back-hand me.

"Miss, that was a bloody immature and awful thing for you to do to someone, let alone someone you just met. As much as I want to bend you over my knee at the moment to discipline you, that is not my job. I will knock some common sense into you eventually. But Mr. McPherson," Mr. Kirkland turned to my brother, still in that deathly calm voice, "Did you just call this scamp your sister?" Connor nodded, looking embarrassed.

"Unfortunately, yes sir. I have no choice to take care of her," Connor said apologetically. My blood boiled. How dare he make it sound like I'm a nuisance?! If he didn't want me that much, he should have just let them put me in the system. Mr. Kirkland turned towards Alfred and Matthew, who both looked like ghosts.

"Alfred? Matthew? May I speak to you both privately in the living room?" he asked, his voice still that deathly calm. Neither Alfred, nor Matthew moved a muscle. Faster than if either of them could have said no, Mr. Kirkland reached out with both hands and yanked on their ear lobes. Alfred winced while Matthew yelped. Mr. Kirkland dragged them to their certain death.

**AND SCENE! Sorry guys, been hectic around here lately! Arthur came into the picture! Le GASP! What will become of the twins? Please R&R it's greatly appreciated! Bye Darlings! *Poofs into a cloud of purple smoke***


	6. Chapter 6

International Intern, chapter 6

**Hi, guys! This is fifth chapter, and I hope you enjoy! I know a lot of authors have very entertaining authors' notes, but I don't. But here's my OTHER future bro-in-law with the disclaimer!**

**France- L'amour is not strong with you and Amerique…What about me instead?**

**Me- *Screams"**

**Hungary- *Appears and whacks France with frying pan* Clarinetgeek4 doesn't own Hetalia or any of its characters! Also doesn't own anything else you recognize in your world!**

**Me- BUT! Before I get on with the story, I have one thing to say- THANK YOU SO MUCH! You have no idea how grateful I am to have people read this stuff, despite my faulty updating. Some special mentions for either favorite-ing, following, or reviewing! Myrna Maeve, Unseen Fears, Roxburry Black, Zarichka, Luna Safire, and Mustache-Giraffe- YOU GUYS ARE SO NICE! Thanks so much, you are the best readers an authoress can have!**

**L~I~N~E~B~R~E~A~K~Y~A~Y~~~~~**

"Katy Sophia McPherson! I know you have the shortest attention span and get bored easily, but COME ON! Pretending to be a maid and purposely getting someone flustered and embarrassed is so not cool, especially when he is one of my bosses! I should have given him the fucking permission to bend you over his knee," Connor ranted, his glasses off so I could clearly see the fury in his eyes. He knew the power of his eyes, how they were exactly like Mom's. "So! Any retort? At all? Or have I finally gotten through that thick, stupid skull of yours?" I wisely said nothing. Connor-mon used glare! Katy-mon flinched! It's super effective!

"I have nothing to say," I replied monotonously. Connor laughed humorlessly.

"Both of us know that's impossible, Katy. You always have to have the last word, whether you're pretending or not." Not eager to get in more trouble, I slowly got up and walked upstairs so I could waste away in my bedroom.

"Oh NO! Don't you walk away from me, you idiot! This is your fault, and for once you're going to take responsibility for your actions!" He rushed up behind me and grabbed my wrist to pull me back downstairs.

"Oh yeah? Then why don't you ever take responsibility for yours?" I asked, not looking at him. Before he could question me further, I continued, picking up steam. "You just HAD to take me in, be the big hero. Don't treat me as if I'm an obligation. You took me in, and damn it, it's going to stay that way, so don't go complaining about me now. You took me on, so man up, and start acting like a fucking brother," I seethed, the trembling in my voice barely controlled.

"Katy-" I slammed the door cutting off whatever retaliation he was going to say. I texted Jane.

"J- Meet me at North Central Mall in a half hour. We're going shopping. Bro said it was ok."

**L~I~N~E~B~R~E~A~K~Y~A~Y~~~~~**

Connor's POV

I sighed wearily. Had my disciplining really gotten her that upset? Usually she blows me off and skips off to do whatever it is that Katys do. Fuck, why the hell are teenage girls so complicated? I was just saying that she should be more respectful, and be accountable for her actions. Then she spurts into this long, blathering speech on how I took her in after the crash. Yes, I took her in, what was her point though? I heard a slight cough from behind the wall. I rolled my eyes. As cool as Mr. Jones was as an employer, he was almost as immature as Katy.

"Hello, Mr. Jones, Mr. Williams, and Mr. Kirkland. Is there something you need?" I asked with as much patience as I could muster. A moment of silence, a mumbled apology, and the scattering of footsteps. "Erm, Mr. McPherson? I hate to regret anything, but your sister was just having fun. Perhaps you were a tad bit harsh on her?" Mr. Kirkland suggested weakly. I sighed through my nose.

"No, I don't think I was. I'll be handing in resignation papers tomorrow." Alfred was about ready to cry.

"W-w-what!? NO! You can't! Dude, you've only been an assistant for a week! We can make things work for your sister, I promise! JUST DON'T LEAVE ME," he cried, latching on to my legs as he seemed to writhe in agony. I fell back, not expecting an extremely childish outburst.

"Alfred! You dolt, if the lad isn't ready for this, then he isn't ready! It is not his fault that he doesn't have the mental capacity to deal with your antics," Arthur lectured, pulling Mr. Jones off of my legs. I glanced at him, not at all grateful. Mental capacity?

"With no respect intended Mr. Kirkland, did you just call me an idiot?" Alfred and Matthew's mouth dropped into an "O" shape. Mr. Eyebrows turned red. Ok, I know you aren't supposed to judge people on appearances, but this guy's eyebrows looked like mutant caterpillars. I swear one of them just wiggled.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you to respect your elders, Mr. McPherson?"

"Didn't anyone ever tell you not to judge a person without walking around in their skin first?" The British man seemed baffled. "_To Kill a Mockingbird_, written in 1960, by Harper Lee," I added coolly.

"Well, then, why were you trying to quit?" the man retorted hotly.

"I heard you guys arguing. Mr. Jones didn't make it clear to me that leaving behind my sister was required. She needs me, and no job is worth giving her up, you hear?" I started to walk upstairs.

"Wait, eh! Who said it was required?" Mr. Williams asked, looking kind of confused. I blinked and turned around, my confusion apparently showing.

"Well, I just kind of assumed. I mean, why else would Mr. Kirkland get so mad at the fact that I had a sister?" Everyone silent for a moment or two.

"It's just that none of our assistants had ever had to be responsible for anything besides their job before, let alone another human being. And this git," Mr. Kirkland pointed to Alfred, who responded with sticking out his tongue, "never told anyone that you had a sister, let alone a younger one, except for Matthew." I just looked at Mr. Jones.

"Mr. Jones, you're a cool guy and all, but you're such a freaking moron sometimes." His mouth dropped in silent protest while I just gave him a smirk. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to give Katy her last warning and apologize for being an ass." I walked up to her room, and my hand immediately made contact with my forehead. The sheet rope and billowing curtains seemed to mock me.

"KATY!"

**L~I~N~E~B~R~E~A~K~Y~A~Y~~~~~**

Katy's POV

I met Jane at the fountain at the center, our usual spot. She squealed, I squealed, and we both started to run to each other like the movie clichés. Our perfect moment was ruined when she tripped over air and fell back onto her butt. I laughed all the same, and helped her up. "Smooth."

"As butter," she agreed, and then tried to suffocate me. I swore I heard my ribs crack.

"Pst! Hey, Liet! Can you ask that girl for me where she got her shorts? They're, like, totally adorbs," I heard a loud voice (try to) whisper as Jane blathered on about how I was avoiding her on purpose, which I was totally not doing. I heard a sigh, sounding male. An unwilling boyfriend forced into shopping, perhaps?

"Felix, if you want to know, go ask her yourself. I'm not your lackey," Mr. Liet replied wearily, as if used to this.

"But, but! I don't know her. You of all people should know that, like, talking to people totally sucks for me," Felix protested, sounding almost nervous. My heart melted at how nervous he sounded. Now if you must know, I wholeheartedly support the idea of transvestites. If girls can dress like guys and get away with it, then how come guys can't get away with dressing like girls? My point exactly.

"Hey, Jane. We should go ask that dude and his friend if they want to shop with us." Without waiting for her protests (which were going to start, I could tell), I dragged her over to the two kind of cute guys. "Hi! I'm Katy, and this is Jane. We come here ALL the time, so we know the locals, and you two do not look like locals. We were wondering, if you guys wanted, we could show you around? I know what it's like being new, and believe me, finding your way in this place with no help is HARD. What do you say?" I babbled happily, trying to get the drama with Connor out of my head. Being happy is the best way to forget something.

The blonde transvestite seemed hesitant, but his brown haired companion smiled easily. "Yes, that would be great actually. I'm Toris, and this is my best friend Felix. We're here as a vacation of sorts," he explained smoothly. "In fact, we were just admiring your shorts. Where did you get them?" Felix seemed to brighten beside his friend. I pretended to be pleasantly surprised.

"Thanks! I got them at Forever 21, which is around here somewhere. Jane! As our navigator for this voyage, I demand you take us to Forever 21," I proclaimed jokily, sticking my finger up in the air. I heard Felix and Toris laugh. She rolled her eyes.

"What am I, your personal GPS?" I nodded.

"Hey, it's an upgrade from servant."

"No kidding. Come on then. Forever 21 is on the third floor. Onward, mes amis!" I covered my ears.

"UGH! NO! No me gusta François! Hablo Espanol, no François!" Jane just laughed at my rapid Spanish speaking, and the two guys followed us with matching grins into the wonderful world of North Central Mall.

**AND SCENE! Ok, admit it- what Hetalia fan hasn't dreamed of going shopping with Poland? Thanks for your patience; I know my updating consistency is crap. For those of you reading, THANKS SO MUCH! **


	7. Chapter 7

International Intern, chapter 7

**Hi, guys! This is seventh chapter, and I hope you enjoy! I know a lot of authors have very entertaining authors' notes, but I don't. But here's my flower-girl with the disclaimer!**

**Liechtenstein- Clarinetgeek4 doesn't own me or any of the nations. She wishes dearly with all her heart, but it simply won't be true.**

**Me- *Sobbing* O-on with the st-story!**

**L~I~N~E~B~R~E~A~K~Y~A~Y~~~~~**

"OMG, this is like, the best shopping day ever! I never knew America had, like all this totally rad shopping," my new male BFF squealed. I squealed right along with him.

"I know, right? The US may be known for stupidity, but we have all the, like, greatest styles" I agreed, making excited hand gestures. This was so much better than moping around in Mr. Jones's house. As Felix and I chattered, my left ear tuned into Toris and Jane's conversation.

"They practically just met, how can they be friends already?" Toris asked in obvious awe. Jane shrugged.

"Honestly, I don't have the slightest clue. At school, Katy just glares at everyone. Katy was a new student this year," Jane replied. I tensed a little at her description, but untensed when I remembered that Jane was only explaining, not gossiping.

"That makes more sense, then. Felix is socially awkward too, at least with people he doesn't know. Maybe that helped them connect," Toris suggested. I tuned back into Felix.

"We should totally go have yours done," he was saying. Not paying attention, I just decided to agree.

"Yeah, that sounds, like, totally great," I consented, giving him a small smile. He squealed yet again (I was seriously loving his bubbly attitude), and grabbed my wrists, dragging me to a makeover booth. My eyes widened. I did clothes. I love clothes. Make-up? Cosmetics? No!

"Wait, Felix! This isn't what I thought you said," I tried to plead, giving him a desperate gaze. He just smirked.

"I, like, totally knew you weren't listening," he said triumphantly. "Well, now you, like have to pay the price!" He turned to the make-up lady. "Just do whatever you think will look best on her, doll," he said, suddenly turning into the nervous guy I had first met. I mouthed, "Help me," to Jane and Toris. Both shook their heads, except Jane was doing it with a wicked smirk. I flinched as the make-up lady rubbed some foundation on my face.

**L~I~N~E~B~R~E~A~K~Y~A~Y~~~~~**

Connor's POV

"Remind me again why we had to come," Mr. Kirkland repeated for the 18th time since we had gotten in the car and head to North Central Mall?

Why? Because Katy was a mood shopper. If she was in a shitty mood, she had definitely gone shopping, and probably asked Jane to come. Also knowing Katy, she had told Jane that I had said it was ok. Despite what Katy seems to think, I'm always one step ahead of her.

"Because. Have you seen how huge this mall is? She could be anywhere, and I need more people to cover more ground. Besides if you hadn't come to the door, she wouldn't have spilled anything on you in the first place," I answered, stopping the car.

"Typical American logic," I heard Mr. Kirkland mutter under his breath. Mr. Jones just laughed.

"Aw, come on Artie! Don't be such a fun-sucker! It's an adventure," Mr. Jones said, slapping the Englishman on the back with such strength that he stumbled forward.

"Alfred, be serious. Something could have happened to Katy, if it's in a place this big," Mr. Williams chastised. Mr. Jones just laughed.

"Oh, please. If the kid did get herself kidnapped or something, she would probably annoy him to the point where he would just let her go," he laughed. I felt the sudden urge to hit him for a comment like that, but I couldn't because he was technically my boss. Instead I sighed in annoyance.

"I would prefer not to jump to conclusions. Let's just find her and go," I grumbled, feeling a different feeling in my stomach. I couldn't quite place it. It was like a mix between anger and remorse. It stirred up when Mr. Jones was talking about Katy being kidnapped. I don't really know.

All I know is that I'm totally taking off my glasses when I see her. It always seems to freak her out for some reason.

**L~I~N~E~B~R~E~A~K~Y~A~Y~~~~~**

Katy's POV

I felt like tearing my face off, no matter how much pain and blood would be involved. My eyes felt so heavy, like I was going to cry at any minute, just due to how much make-up was on my eyes at the moment. I wore a seemingly permanent scowl on my now painted face.

"Aw, come on, Kitty-Kat, it isn't that bad. You look gorgeous," Jane assured me, rubbing my arm.

"I feel as if my face has been coated with plaster," I replied monotonously. Felix looked at me in sheer horror.

"B-b-b-but! Wha? Like, why?! You look, like, totally amazing! Stunning! Any guy would be so lucky to like, get a chance with you," Felix assured. I shuddered.

"Somehow, that doesn't make me feel any, like, better, Felix. I don't really like guys," I told him. He nodded in understanding.

"Oh. You don't swing that way?" Toris looked shocked.

"Felix! You don't just ask that!" I shrugged, not really caring.

"Honestly, I haven't really liked anyone enough to know if I did swing that way or not. I just hate people."

"Totes know how you feel, girl," Felix second, giving me a quick side hug. I smiled. Why couldn't all people just be like Felix?

"Yo! Felix, Toris! What are you guys doing here?!" I froze, and mentally slapped myself for being so stupid. Of friggin' course Connor sent his employers after me. And of friggin' course they knew Alfred. With my luck, they were probably UN reps. I grabbed Jane's hand and sprinted over to the food court, where mobs of people were eating to their hearts' delights.

"Wha…? Katy! What's going on? Who's that man? Do you know him?" Jane whispered as we got in line. I watched from afar as I eavesdropped on the conversation and held a hand over her mouth.

"OMG, Al, you have, like, the best shopping, and citizens in the world," Felix gushed, spinning around in a circle with his arms stuck straight out, like a long stick.

"Thanks, brah! Listen, have you dudes seen a girl with brown hair, sort of tan skin, and brown eyes? She looks like she's about in seventh grade, but she's actually a freshman in high school," he supplied. I did face-palm at that. I am not that short, damn it!

"What style is her hair in?" Toris asked, genuinely trying to help Mr. Jones.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! Please, I beg you, do not sell me out. I thought we were cool buds," I internally begged.

"A pixie cut, like a guy's, you know?" Toris and Felix exchanged a look, but luckily Mr. Jones is an oblivious moron and missed it entirely.

"Nope, sorry. We haven't seen anyone like that anywhere. We would, like, totally tell you if we did," Felix answered, and I sent a quick thank you to the Universe.

"Why are you looking for this girl anyway? Is she in trouble?" Toris inquired. I face-palmed again. Great. They're going to find out about everything, and Felix will never want to shop with me ever again. Awesome.

"You know our new International Intern? Yeah, he has a little sister, and she snuck out, so we trying to find her. Connor is totally pissed," he emphasized.

"Commo?" Jane asked from behind my hand, her speech sounding slurred because of the hand. I nodded sadly.

"Yeah, sorry, hon, I snuck out. He pissed me off, and usually that doesn't happen a lot," I apologized in a whisper. She rolled her eyes, and took my hand off her mouth.

"I can't really say I'm surprised. Hey, do you want to turn yourself in with me? I can say I wanted you here, and that I was really upset, and needed you immediately," she offered. Before I could turn down the offer so I could be noble, and strong hand gripped my wrist.

"Got you," Mr. Jones said with a smirk. I tried to pull my wrist away from him, but that hand had some serious hand strength. The smirk grew wider. Jane poked Mr. Jones side. He looked down at her, looking kind of annoyed.

"Um, hi! I'm sorry, I don't know who you are, and you don't know who I am, but I guess that that's not really important. I'm Jane, Katy's friend and best ever protector, so yeah! It isn't her fault. I asked her to come here. I had gotten into a fight with my sister, and I really needed to shop, and I don't like shopping alone. Katy even told me she was in pretty deep shit with her bro, and I asked her to sneak out and come anyway! Please, don't be mad at her, when I caused this whole thing," Jane rambled, even pulling the teary puppy dog face. I wanted to laugh at Mr. Jones panicked face, but that wouldn't help my situation at all.

"Uh…well…it's ok, I guess. Dude, just don't cry! That would make me seem really not heroic! I'm personally not all that pissed about it, I mean shopping rocks! Just Katy's bro is really pissed, and threatened to quit if we didn't come help find her, so yeah," Mr. Jones explained frantically. He sighed when he saw Jane's puppy dog face didn't move an inch. "Look, kid, I'll take you to Connor. He'll decide"

While walking behind Mr. Jones to face my punishment and my brother, I high fived Jane with a huge smile. That is why Jane is my best friend.


End file.
